


I Don't Wanna Know (If the Feeling Follows Home)

by volee_weva



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Canon Compliant, Hurt Juno Steel, Juno Steel is a beautiful idiot, Junoverse | Juno Steel Universe, Nearly Major Character Death, Other, Post-Episode: s01e18 Juno Steel and the Final Resting Place, Set Post Season One Finale, Whump, kind of?, missives, restrained
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-12 11:07:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28884366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/volee_weva/pseuds/volee_weva
Summary: "Juno Steel was hopelessly and madly in love with him.Not with the man of many masks, the untraceable thief. Not Rex Glass or Duke Rose or any other made up name. He was in love with Peter Nureyev, the man himself, with all that composed him, to his core. And there had once been a chance that Nureyev loved him back. A chance that Juno had just thrown away like it was nothing. A chance he would never get back."-In which Juno doesn't die, but is still haunted by a ghost of his past. Nebulously set in Season Two.
Relationships: Benzaiten Steel & Juno Steel, Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel, Rita & Juno Steel
Comments: 1
Kudos: 51





	I Don't Wanna Know (If the Feeling Follows Home)

**Author's Note:**

> What if I wrote a sort of fix-it fic after being mad at the Season One finale ending months after first listening to it?
> 
> Title taken from Skeletal Appreciation Day in Vestal, NY (Bones) by Will Wood and the Tapeworms.

Well. He supposed this would be the end of Juno Steel.

It was fitting, wasn't it? Trapped in a cold, dark room, alone, the restraints clamped around him just a little too tight and pumping whatever noxious tranquilizer into his bloodstream anytime he even thought of moving. Juno had to give them credit, it was a highly sophisticated set of restraints. Ixion Bands, he assumed. Much too high tech to be used on him. He shifted slightly, to quell the numbness in his legs, and he winced as another burst of tranquilizer pulsed into him.

His vision started to fog, and Juno didn't even try to fight it. All his thoughts were starting to blur in his mind-- the world around him might as well match.

Juno wished he could say goodbye to Rita. At least give her some closure before he disappeared from her life forever. She'd be fine without him, certainly. Hell, she'd probably thrive working for someone else. Maybe Dark Matters, buddied up with Sasha or something. He had always been thankful for Rita, even though he had never said it. He should have said it more. She was so much more than she let on-- whoever was lucky enough to have her in their life once he's dead and gone had better appreciate her nuances.

What was he even doing here to begin with? What was he trying to accomplish? Solving a case, recovering some Martian tech, besting a bad guy, and for what? Would it really make a difference? Had Juno Steel, Private Eye, ever done something to make the world a better place? Hyperion City was a shit hole, would always be. Nothing Juno did was ever going to change that.

His legs twitched and he felt more chemical seep in from the metal digging into his skin. Colorful spots congregated at the corners of his periphery and Juno let out a groan. He should've been the one killed all those years ago. Ben should still be around, and it was all Juno's fault. If he hadn't run away, if he hadn't tried to escape the life he was allotted, Ben would still be alive. Ben would have been able to escape this vicious cycle Juno had found himself in. Ben had always been infinitely better than Juno, in every way.

Juno sighed as a cacophony of noise banged outside the room that would be known as his casket. Was it gunfire? An explosion? Someone coming for him? He laughed, low and humorless, before wincing at the shock of more poison entering his system. There wasn't a soul in the galaxy who would think saving him was a worthwhile cause. Not even...

Peter Nureyev had always caught him off-guard. And, as much as Juno didn't want to admit it, he supposed a death row confession to no one was as good a time as ever to say it -- he loved it. He loved the way that man could work any situation to his favor, just how incredibly smart he was. He loved that sharp grin that crossed his pretty lips, the way he said Juno as if it was spun from glass, the way that dangerous smile tasted...

Juno Steel was hopelessly and madly in love with him.

Not with the man of many masks, the untraceable thief. Not Rex Glass or Duke Rose or any other made up name. He was in love with Peter Nureyev, the man himself, with all that composed him, to his core. And there had once been a chance that Nureyev loved him back. A chance that Juno had just thrown away like it was nothing. A chance he would never get back.

Juno blinked an eye filled with technicolor haze, slowly, before the figure coming towards him got too close. He squinted just as sharp features came into focus. It was rather thoughtful of his mind, mere moments from death, to conjure up such a realistic image of Peter Nureyev, with those pronounced cheekbones and perfectly lined lips.

_"Nureyev."_ Juno thought. Or did he say it? It was all blending together. _"You look nice."_

"Oh, you can drop the niceties for now, Juno." Nureyev's voice was full of concern as he crouched close to meet his eye level. He said something else, but Juno didn't listen. He just looked at him, tracing every feature with his eye.

Why would Juno's mind conjure up this Nureyev that was so worried, lacking the smile he yearned for? Juno scoffed, the little bit of breath puffing out from his nose. Typical. Just his MO. Hallucinate the only person who's made you better than you've ever been, but don't let it be a Peter from the good times. Juno Steel was meant to fall into the cool grip of death with the image of Peter Nureyev's fearful visage as the last thing to see.

_But why does he look so afraid?_ Juno shifted as the question slurred from his lips. His head began to loll to the side, coming in contact with something warm, soft, but firm, cupping his cheek. His lashes fluttered as the Nureyev of his mind came back into view.

"Juno, dear, please keep still." Nureyev said, a bit of that playful lilt Juno missed so much tugging at his words. "We can't have any more of that toxin entering your bloodstream."

The warm pressure left his cheek and Juno whimpered after it, _"Why not? 'M gonna die anyways."_

The Nureyev of his mind pressed his lips into a line, not even looking up from where his hands fiddled outside of Juno's sight. "You absolutely will not be dying tonight. Not on my watch."

A soft tug of longing coursed through Juno. Maybe he didn't hate himself too badly, after all. Because his imagined Nureyev had said that with such determination, such a deep and palpable care to it. _“It sounds like you still love me.”_

Juno began to fade, the psychedelic swirls overtaking the image of Peter Nureyev he had concocted.

As Juno Steel slipped from consciousness, the last few things he knew were the gentle press of softness to his hairline, and the sharp whisper of words. "Just relax, Juno, and I'll have you out of there in no time at all."

\-----

When Juno Steel awoke, he was surprised, to say the least. He opened his eye to light pouring into his bedroom from between the blinds. He began to sit up before the aching of his limbs overtook him. He flopped back into the mattress, throwing an arm over his eyes.

Okay. So, he hadn't died. Probably. If the afterlife was just him feeling like shit in his tiny cramped Hyperion City apartment, then, it would seem like his life had prepared him for Hell in more ways than one.

He let out a sigh, much to his core muscles dismay, and sighed. He should probably check his voicemails, let Rita know he was alive, do something other than just lay here and wallow. He rolled cautiously to the side, the movement ginger and slow. His bed creaked as he went, but he stopped when his gaze fell to his side table. Something glinted in the bleeding sunlight, and Juno rubbed his eye to gain a bit more clarity. At his bedside were three things: a glass of water, a small bottle of painkillers, and a note. He checked the bottle’s label quickly before popping a pill and a swig of water down his throat. When he picked up the note, his heart felt tight, and his throat dried.

He knew that handwriting anywhere.

In fact, he still had the first piece of correspondence from the owner of this handwriting, stowed away in his dresser drawers, only seeing the light of day when Juno was feeling especially melancholic. He gripped the paper and devoured the words on the page. There seemed to be a smudge at the top of the page, which Juno took a few moments to parse out what had hastily been crossed out.

_~~My Dear~~ _

Juno Steel took another sip of water, as if that would satiate the lovesick ache of regret in his chest. He continued reading.

_Hello, Juno. It seems that, despite your best efforts, our paths are simply made to align. Starcrossed, some may say. Which has such a lovely ring to it, does it not?_

_Regardless, I only mean for this missive to scold you for being so handsomely foolish. Infiltrating Elise von Mureletta’s soiree for Mars’ most dangerous, rich, and powerful kingpins is quite the bold and romantic move, Juno. But, it is, as I stated above, foolish._

Juno could nearly hear the echo of Nureyev’s voice at the word foolish. Words that preceded the moment that Peter Nureyev etched himself into the walls of his heart, sealed with a kiss that will forever haunt and thrill him.

_Specifically, the fact that you went alone and allowed yourself to be taken captive by her goons and locked away in that horribly dark and dismal cellar. I hardly had the chance to react before you were being carted away like you weighed nothing, in that flattering black ensemble of yours. A darling dragonfly, caught in Elise’s deadly web. Certainly, being the clever detective you are, you knew Elise von Mureletta is in possession of some of the most torturous equipment this side of the galaxy. She is known for her gruesome methods of silencing those that know too much-- especially a lady detective with a penchant for running his pretty mouth._

_I cannot describe to you the feeling I felt when I saw you tangled in the Ixion Bands. There are not many who have survived such a torture, to have that much deadly toxin enter the bloodstream. You’re lucky I was able to find you in time and administer the antidote before the world lost Juno Steel._

Juno frowned. He hadn’t even noticed Nureyev among the partygoers. Granted, his case had kept him a bit distracted. And he knew if he had caught even a glance of Peter Nureyev, no doubt dripping in diamonds and rose petals, Juno would have been frozen on the spot, taken in by his thrall again.

_I don’t know what I would do if you were gone, Juno. Verily and truly gone. I have lost you before, certainly, so, I am all too familiar with the sting. And yet, I would prefer to be blissfully unaware of what it would feel like were I to lose you again._

Juno's heart ached inside his chest, with regret and the squashing of a tiny flicker of hope in his chest as he read the words. He didn’t deserve to have any hope that Peter Nureyev felt anything for him but hatred.

_Do try to keep yourself out of trouble. That means the kind that could actually kill you. It was serendipity that allowed me to steal glances at you across that ballroom. But, I won’t be at every soiree you decide to infiltrate. In fact, I honestly don’t see myself at any upcoming events for a while. At least, not on Mars, for the record._

_I also expect you to actually take the medicine I left at your bedside. From what I know of Ixion Bands, you’ll be in quite a lot of pain when you wake. Juno glances back at the painkillers on his side table. They hadn’t started to kick in, but, there was a lightness in his heart that was quickly extinguished as he kept reading. I cannot promise you any future meetings, as you’ve made it quite clear you no longer wish to see me._

_But, I will confess something to you, which seems to have established a tradition between us._

_I carry a hope deep within myself of being able to see you, to speak with you, in the ways we did before. It is a rather fruitless dream, but, I cannot stop myself from longing to hear you say my name again, without the formalities of a drug-induced trance._

_Until then, Juno._

There was a signature that might as well be tattooed in Juno’s mind, the clean, slanted script.

_Peter Nureyev_

There was a smudge beneath the signature that made Juno’s mouth go dry.

A smudge of berry red lipstick, sending a twist right to the pit of his stomach. The ghost of Nureyev’s kiss at the bottom of the page had him enthralled, enraptured, the way Peter Nureyev always did. And that enchantment always made Juno more and more enraged with himself . His eyes flicked to the small script masked inside that deep lip mark, something that would have been missed by a less sharp eye.

_I never stopped loving you. And I do not believe I ever could._

Juno read the sentence. Then he read it again. And again. The words burned into his eyes, his cybernetic even sending him a notification, asking if this should be stored in the memory banks. He didn’t need a fake eye to have that etched into his mind forever.

Why, Nureyev? Why would he still love him, after everything he’s done? Why would he save him, take him home, care for him in a way no one had in a long long time? Juno gripped the page, holding it to his heart.

Why?

His comms started to beep, and Rita’s voice cracked through the cacophony of Juno’s thoughts.

“Mister Steel!” Rita chimed. “You'd better be safe at home after you forgot to tell me about your mission last night! You had me so worried I couldn’t even enjoy last nights stream of—“

“I’m fine, Rita,” Juno lied, a familiar string of words he threw to his secretary when he didn’t want to talk about how terrible he really did feel. “Just a late night. Cancel any plans for today. Think I’m gonna take a sick day.”

“You got it, Boss! Take a bubble bath! Read a book! Get some soup delivered—“

“Bye, Rita.” Juno hung up the call, and flopped back into his mattress, the letter right against him.

He let out a shaky breath, picking up the letter and starting again from the beginning.


End file.
